


The Original Spark

by QueenofKlonnie_20



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV)
Genre: Adorable Isaac Lahey, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Hope Mikaelson (Originals), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Davina Claire, BAMF Klaus Mikaelson, BAMF Kol Mikaelson, BAMF Stiles, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Dom Elijah Mikaelson, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Hybrid Klaus Mikaelson, Isaac Lahey & Rebekah Mikaelson Friendship, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Klaus Mikaelson Has A Heart, M/M, Major Character Injury, Malia Tate is a Hale, Mates, Multi, Original Character(s), Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Past Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Personal Canon, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Peter Hale is a Little Shit, Polyamory, Possessive Klaus Mikaelson, Post-Season/Series 02 Finale, Post-Season/Series 03, Power Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Powerful Stiles Stilinski, Protective Elijah Mikaelson, Protective Peter Hale, Protective Rebekah Mikaelson, Sane Peter Hale, Sassy Peter Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Malia Tate Friendship, Stiles Stilinski Is So Done, Stiles Stilinski Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski is Pushed Out of the Pack, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Sweet Finn Mikaelson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27930661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofKlonnie_20/pseuds/QueenofKlonnie_20
Summary: One night, out of the blue, Stiles is kicked out of the pack and to be honest, fuck them all. He is absolutely done with all their shit and being dragged into it, and tells them so. Leaving the town behind that night, three members also leave with him, ready to follow him wherever and don't look back. Two months later, after traveling nonstop, they find themselves in New Orleans, supernatural hotspot, and find themselves in the place they least expect -- home. The magic and supernatural community beckons them, who knew they would all find what they're all looking for. Enter the Mikaelsons, the Original family, kings/queens of New Orleans. They feel a disturbance and have no choice but to follow. What happens when these two sides meets? Power meets power and it's a battle of the wills. Plus with new relationships springing forth, both love and friendships, and new enemies on the horizon, and the pack coming back to cause trouble for their selfish needs, it's no wonder Stiles was tired of everything in the first place. Come along on their journey of a lifetime and watch as they travel the twists and turns leading home.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stilinski (past), Elijah Mikaelson & Finn Mikaelson & Klaus Mikaelson & Kol Mikaelson & Rebekah Mikaelson, Elijah Mikaelson/Stiles Stilinski, Finn Mikaelson/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski, Klaus Mikaelson/Stiles Stilinski, Kol Mikaelson/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Marcel Gerard/Malia Tate, Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Peter Hale & Malia Tate, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Rebekah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson & Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski (past), Stiles Stilinski/Klaus Mikaelsson/Kol Mikaelson/Elijah Mikaelson/Finn Mikaelson, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 43
Kudos: 362





	1. Prologue: Out the Pack

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is my first story on here and I'm excited to share it with you. I'm putting my personal twist on this story and hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Love you!!!

As he drove out of town, safely tucked in with no destination in sight, looking back at it, he really shouldn't have been surprised. Stiles had felt the pack dynamic change, knew the two 'leaders’' were threatened by his presence, but honestly he didn't think they would do the unthinkable but looking back, he really should've known.

It was a pack movie night and Stiles had gotten the text from Derek, his boyfriend (he still couldn't believe that himself), to pick up the snacks and drinks, as the pack had ordered pizza, everyone's meals given out, and that they were all waiting for him. He drove his baby blue jeep to the supermarket, grabbing all types of snacks: chips, candy, pastries, sodas, etc., he knew would be devoured in hours by his pack. He especially got Isaac his Hershey's kisses, Peter (his favorite, intelligent Creeper Wolf) his Sour Patch kids, and Malia her favorite chips, UTZ Sour Cream and Onion chips; all of these foods were the first things Stiles shared with them. It surprised the hell out of the four of them when they got closer to each other, but somehow it all worked out, they needed each other to work.

He was in line, a cashier ringing up the food when he received a call. Taking his phone out of his jeans pocket, he saw it was Derek calling him, so he answered it, bringing the phone to his ear, as he was pulling out his wallet to pay.

"Hey babe, what's up?" he asked, handing the cashier his card for the total.

"Where are you Stiles? Derek growled out, making Stiles frown.

"Umm getting the snacks, you know? The thing you asked me to do?" he told him.

"Well hurry up Stiles, we're waiting for you to get here. There’s something we gotta talk about," His boyfriend told him in a sour tone. Something was wrong but for some reason Stiles couldn't figure out what it could be.

"Ok, I'm finishing and I'll be on my way. Love y-" but he was cut off by the sound of the phone dial. He brought the phone from his ear, staring at the black screen with a deeper frown. Derek never hung up without saying love you back to Stiles and the action had warning bells going off in his mind. He put his phone back into his pocket, grabbed his card, and got the bags. Heading out the supermarket with his bags, he got in his jeep, and headed to Derek's loft where movie night and the impromptu discussion was going to be held. It took about 15 minutes for him to get there but the drive felt longer to him, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he drove. Pulling up to the loft, he parked his car by Derek's Camaro, shutting off the engine and grabbing his keys, he got the snacks and headed up, making sure to lock his car. Taking the elevator up, he hummed softly under his breath, waiting until he reached the loft's floor.

The closer he got to Derek's loft, the more prominent the sinking feeling in his stomach. Slowly raising a hand, he gave a quick knock on the door, listening in but not hearing a thing. That was strange because there was usually an overflow of conversations floating around that they could be heard as soon as you got to the door, but this time there was nothing. He heard shuffling and low whispering before someone finally came and opened up the door. It was Erica but she didn't even bother with a greeting before turning around and going back to where she came. Stiles mentally rolled his eyes at the blonde's rude behavior, not letting it get to him, getting inside, mindful of the bulging bags in his grasp. He placed them down before closing and locking the door behind him. Turning around, he realized how quiet it was in the room, so silent a pin could've dropped and it would be heard.

"Hey guys," Stiles spoke, trying to get rid of the awkward atmosphere that permeated the air, yet there was no real response back. A few grumbles and nods his way but that was it. The only ones who spoke were Isaac and Malia, but their faces were a bit glum, something he would ask them about. He was about to pick up the bags when he saw his boyfriend walk towards him. Feeling excited at the fact he was coming towards him, Stiles momentarily forgot about Derek's abrasive behavior and the groceries, and walked to meet him halfway for a kiss.

"Hey Sourwolf," he happily greeted, unaware of the stern look on his boyfriend's face, meeting him and trying to give him a kiss. All he got was silence, as Derek's head turned to the side, Stiles' kiss ending up on the cheek. He was a bit surprised but undeterred to get what he was aiming for. Turning Derek's head, Stiles gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, knowing Derek wasn't a huge fan of PDA. Usually though his boyfriend would make the kiss a bit longer instead it was like he couldn't wait for the kiss to be over.

"Der?" he softly asked him, confused at the statue in front of him. Looking behind his still boyfriend, he saw unprovoked harsh looks on his pack's face, Isaac, Peter and Malia exempted. "What's going on here guys? Can someone answer me?" He was patiently awaiting an answer, when Scott got up from his place on the couch, heading towards the couple.

"Stiles we need to talk to you," his best friend started, his tone trying to push a fake sense of calm to him.

"Ok Scotty, tell me what exactly?" he asked, molten bronze eyes staring into dull brown eyes. 

Scott opened his mouth before closing it just as quickly, he looked behind Stiles, his eyes trying to communicate with the man behind him.

"Hellooo... are we going to speak or just stand around awkwardly because I have to pass out the snacks if that's the case," Stiles told them, looking in between the silent leaders.

He rolled his eyes and was making his way over to the snacks when a hand stopped him. He froze at the hand before relaxing at the touch, still getting used to being touched by people after what happened not too long ago. Turning around, he noticed the arm belonged to Derek, raising an eyebrow, he waited for the male to speak. Standing in weird silence for a few seconds, he was about to open his mouth when Derek finally spoke.

"Stiles, we've come to a decision about something," Derek started, his gruff voice void of his emotions. Stiles gestured for the male to continue speaking so he did, clearing his throat, Derek picked up, getting it all out, "We've come to a consensus that it's best that you're no longer in the pack." Silence ensued before laughter rang out making the pack look at each other, their faces showing panic. Crazy, loud laughter that came from Stiles, in the back of his hysterical mind, he heard someone curse but he paid no attention to it. 

"That's the funniest joke, Sourwolf because it almost sounded like you just told me I'm out the pack. Whew that was hilarious," he said, fake wiping away tears. He turned away once more, about to get the bags when he was whirled around.

"It's not a joke Stiles. I'm being dead serious, you're no longer in the pack. Hell you were never in the pack!" Derek shouted in the younger male's face.

"Ok Derek, you're taking this too far now. Did Jackson put you up to this because it it's gone too far," Stiles told him in a deadly voice making the were flinch.

"It's not a joke Sti. I'm sorry to tell you this but it's true, we all decided this together," Scott murmured, coming closer to the two. Stiles faced his 'best friend', his 'brother', staring the crooked jaw boy down.

"Yes I see we all did this all together," he snarked, relishing in the hurt his words provided. "So I'm to believe I'm not pack yet I wasted my fucking money buying you guys snacks for movie night? A tradition that I started" His voice getting louder with each passing moment.

He looked around, his eyes going from Allison to Lydia & Jackson to Erica & Boyd to his favorite three members. He could see that they obviously had no part in this if the pleading in Isaac's eyes were anything to go by and giving them a slight nod that they were in the clear, he turned back to the pathetic excuse of an alpha in front of him.

"When the hell wasn't I pack? Please tell me how on God's green Earth, I'm not apart of this fucking pack!" He let out in Derek's face, unflinching at the glowing red eyes making their appearance. Instead of his voice speaking up though, it was Jackson.

"Oh shut up Stilinski. I'm only surprised it took this long for them to say anything. I mean surely you didn't think that this was going to last forever. You're only a pathetic, weak human, who's only power is getting into trouble and getting in the way. You’re honestly good for nothing."

"Is that how you guys feel?" he asked, staring everyone down, as the blonde's words hit him, Derek and Scott doing their best to avoid his eyes. "Oh this is fan-fucking-tastic. You guys are kicking me out because I'm human? Seriously that's the best you're got?" 

No one spoke. Everyone doing their best to avoid looking the angry boy in the eyes too long. A boiling rage filled his chest, the 'scent' of it making the betas in the room whimper (except Peter).

"Let me tell you guys something," he started in a dangerously low tone, "This 'pathetic', 'weak' human has saved all your asses on more than one occasion, many fucking times if you guys have seemed to have forgotten. I'm the only reason many of you are even alive!"

"Yeah and you're the reason I was even bitten!" Scott yelled at his, his eyes flashing amber, Stiles flinching back at the words. Everyone too shocked to speak, words failing everyone in that moment as Scott said hurtful words he wouldn't be able to take back. Stiles took a deep breath, trying to calm down but finding it hard to do so, as a look of regret came across Scott’s face.

"I"M THE REASON YOU WERE BIT?!" Stiles exploded, ready to unleash everything. "I'm the reason your dumb ass is even alive, hell why all of you are alive. I may have convinced you to sneak out that night but no one told you to stay out. You could've gone home at any time and I didn't hear all this complaining when you got rid of your asthma, when you got the girl, who's freaking family has tried multiple times to kill you and Derek, and when you got so good at lacrosse. I didn't hear all these objections then and now all of a sudden it's a problem. I didn't hear this shit when I helped you guys take down Peter because you wanted to be 'human' again. I didn't hear this when we had to take down the kanima, who by the way was fucking Jackass, and I was the one who knew what had to be done. I didn't hear this when I had to take a fucking beating from Gerard, someone you were fucking working with even though he had his own scheme. A beating that was used to send a message to you but because your head was so far up Allison's ass you wouldn't have even noticed. A fucking beating I lied to my dad about because I'm not allowed to tell him about the supernatural world, yet you were able to tell Melissa. A scheme you didn't let anyone be apart of because you were too stupid and trusting of the wrong person. I have stuck out my neck for almost everybody here and I'm supposedly the reason. You can try to pin this on me but I won't let you make yourself the victim in this story."

Derek opened his mouth, words at the tip of his tongue, but Stiles stopped him. "What? You gonna try and blame me for something next? Maybe for the fire as well?" Stiles asked harshly, uncaring of the hurt appearing on his 'boyfriend's face, "Was this all some game for you? Letting you in and you just break my heart?"

"Stiles-" he started, but Stiles shut it down. "I don't want to hear it. You guys say I'm out the pack because I'm human yet there's two humans right there. Wow Allison knows how to use a bow and arrow and Lydia's smart but other than that, what exactly does she do? It's not like she has any undeveloped powers we know about," he said, ignoring the hurt look on Lydia's face and the growl Jackson released.

“She’s helped out before-” Scott started, but Stiles cut him off, his words barely penetrating his mind. 

"I've given my all trying to protect this pack and suddenly I'm a liability, a nuisance who brings trouble. After all the research and sleepless nights I've gone through, the never-ending scars I've received, the enemies who’ve chased me down and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, gesturing around.

He knew his words were making an impact, if the downcast looks on their faces were anything to go by, but it didn't bring him any satisfaction seeing them like that. Instead all it did was just hurt him. He opened his mouth to speak, words there but he closed his mouth because he was honestly so tired.

“Is this really what you want to do?” his dead tone, making both Derek and Scott scan his face.

“Stiles-” Derek started.

“Answer my fucking question Derek. I said, is this what you guys are going to do?” closing his eyes when he received a nod, trying his best to calm down his anger. His magic ready to attack if he so much as thought it. He wouldn’t though because in the end it would hurt him then it would them. Nodding his head, he opened his eyes and stared at them.

“Fine. I’m leaving. Let’s go guys,” he called out, turning around, picking up the almost abandoned snacks he brought. The pack looked amongst themselves, questioning who he was speaking to but they didn’t have to wait too long before three figures got up. In a singular line, making their way to the one who called them, paying no mind to the open mouths.

“Where do you guys think you're going?” Derek growled, anger rising within him as he watched his beta and family, go to his boyfriend’s side.

Nobody spoke up though as Issac and Malia took up beside Stiles, Peter standing a bit behind him. 

“They’re coming with me of course,” Stiles spoke, his eyes glowing a bit under the loft’s lights. 

“No the hell they’re not,” his boyfr-- his ex said, clenching his fists.

“Yes the fuck they are!” he yelled back. “Did you think they were going to stay? With you guys at that?” Stiles scoffed, as Isaac pressed closer to the male.

“Yes,” Derek gritted out, “Issac is my beta, Peter’s my uncle and Malia is my cousin, so of course they would stay with me.”

Stiles shook his head, already knowing that this pack would crumble as soon as he set foot out of the loft.

“Exactly. Issac is one of us,” Erica spoke up from her position on the couch, in a cocky voice, Boyd nodding beside her.

Isaac rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to yell at the couple. “I’m not one of you guys. I haven’t been in a long time and you guys would’ve noticed if you paid attention. Derek, do you even realize that I don’t stay here as much? And that it’s the same for both Peter and Malia?” he asked his ‘alpha’, gesturing to the two, waiting for an answer.

Derek opened his mouth, but no words came out, because he didn’t notice and they knew that, a scoff coming out of Malia’s mouth at the conversation when her cousin didn’t say anything. 

“Careful Isaac. You’ll hurt my dear nephew’s brain with a question such as that. He’s not used to them.” Peter spoke, reacting to the situation unraveling in front of him. He received a glare in turn but ignored it in favor of speaking. “Isaac is absolutely correct though nephew. The three of us don’t even stay here as much, as we’ve been spending our time with the lovely young Stilinski within his home. This loft you live in, hasn’t been ‘home’ for none of us.”

Scott looked in between Derek and Stiles, with the small group standing with the latter. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why they would be taking Stiles’ side in this. After all he was only human, what could he possibly offer. 

“Are you crazy?” Scott asked, his brain trying to process everything. “Why would you guys risk a pack for him?” Flinching at the three resounding growls he got in turn.

“Because failure of mine, he is pack,” Peter answered, a low growl from Scott, growing more annoyed that he turned this sorry little boy. “He’s my pack and I could say the same for Issac and Malia here. He’s always been a part of the pack, family actually, and the fact that the rest of you uncultured teenagers deem different, shows who’s more mature in the matter.”

"Stiles is pack. If he's not pack, then we're not pack," Malia bluntly told the group, staring the idiotic boy down.

Stiles smiled at the strength he was receiving from his little pack, his little family. The same family who were standing up for him. He was ready to leave though, and he showed it by turning. Once again being whirled by Derek, the alpha baring his teeth at him. He just stood there, uninterested in the weak attempt of power that was being done overtly. 

“Are you done?” he asked, yawning, growing tired of the conversation. For people who wanted him gone, they sure liked preventing him from leaving.

“You’re not leaving with my betas,” Derek growled, eyes flickering from their regular hazel-green eyes to a dull red; eyes Stiles used to find beautiful, but were now ugly to him.

“I’m not forcing them to leave. They gladly want to and well who am I to prevent them from doing so,” giving a huge smile, that grew at the chuckle Peter let out.

“This is not a joke Stiles,” Derek’s alpha face making an appearance, his grip getting harder on the boy’s arm.

“Just like me giving us an opportunity wasn’t, asshole. These three and I have gotten closer in case you haven’t realized so it’s not my fault they want to come. They’re old enough to make decisions for themselves, especially Peter. Unlike you, I don’t have to threaten to gain loyalty,” he told him, yanking his arm away, turning to leave. The three wolves right behind him, letting them out the door first. He looked back at the pack’s faces, taking in their features as though it would be the last time he would see them and maybe it would be. Before his eyes found Derek’s.

Eyes he was beginning to fall in love with. Eyes he cherished that turned affection in hatred. Feeling his eyes glow a bit themselves, relishing at the flinch the two 'leaders make, his magic making a small presence, appearing as a trick of light. “I may be ‘human’ Derek, but let’s make one thing very clear. Don’t come after us. They’re my concern now, my pack and if I see you near us again, I promise you’ll regret ever meeting me. Also in case it wasn’t clear when you decided I wasn’t good enough for this ragtag team of misfits, we’re fucking over asshole,” Stiles said, slamming the door behind him, walking to the three who were waiting for him by the elevator. As the elevator doors closed in his face, he wondered what would be next for them, as he began formulating plans in his mind.

The quartet rode the elevator down, the three weres following Stiles to his jeep. He unlocked the doors with his car keys, placing the bags in the trunk, as they clambered inside. Closing the trunk, he climbed in, noticing Peter was in the passenger's seat and Isaac and Malia in the backseat. He put the keys in the ignition, releasing a shuddering breath as three hands offered him support. Shaking away the sadness, he started the engine and pulled out from the front of the loft. He didn't know what he wanted to do, but he knew he didn't want to go home just yet because it wasn't feeling like home at the moment.

"I don't-" but he was stopped by the comforting hand on his neck that belonged to Peter. "It's okay Stiles. I know."

Stiles nodded, grateful to the older man for understanding how he was feeling. "Can we go to your place? I mean just because those idiots ruined pack movie night, definitely doesn't mean it should be ruined for us, you know?" he asked with a wry grin. "Plus I don't want to go home right now because dad will probably ask why I have a grown man and two other teenagers in our living room, and I don't think we've really covered that; I also don't want to go home right now because what happens when the night ends. I mean you guys would leave but what happens and it's just a lot to unpack and we shouldn’t be-" he rambled, cut off by a soft hand covering his mouth. "Breathe you idiot," Malia growled lowly in his ear, moving her hand only when she saw him nod and felt the tension release from his shoulders. 

"Are you okay?" Isaac spoke up softly, sad for the usually hyperactive teen. "Yeah I'm okay puppy." A small grin sent back to him, leaving the curly haired boy with a slight blush, "I'm not a puppy Sti," he whined, making everyone laugh, the atmosphere finally lightening up.

It didn't take them long to reach Peter's apartment complex. Stiles didn't know when ZombieWolf managed to find time to buy a place away from the loft after being resurrected, but the man definitely had taste. Pulling into the complex's parking lot, he cut the engine and they all climbed out, Malia and Isaac grabbing the bags out of the trunk. Locking the doors behind him, Stiles followed them through the entrance and down the lobby's hallway to the elevator. He never worded it out loud but Peter's place compared to Derek's was like comparing a Ferrari to a minivan. Princess to pauper type of thing. They finally reached Peter's floor and waited as said person got his keys out to open the door. Unlocking the door, the teens followed him in, spreading out throughout the man's living room space. Isaac and Malia placed the bags on the coffee table in the middle of the room as Peter told them he was going to freshen up, heading to his bedroom. Stiles plopped down onto the custom made leather couch the fashionable were had made, the other two teens slumping down beside him as they rummaged through the bags. Grabbing the remote from the coffee table, he turned on the 70 inch TV, heading straight to Netflix for a movie they could watch. He noises of pleasure from the two when they found their snack of choice, thanking him with a nudge.

"Okay so for tonight, the genres we can choose between are: action or comedy. Which one are we feeling tonight?" Taking an offered Hershey kiss from the wolf on his right, patiently waiting for their input.

"How about comedy?" Isaac asked.

"I want to watch an action film though," Malia in a deadpan voice.

"What are you two arguing over now?" Peter's voice filtered into the room, as he came back into the living room, dressed down from his usual clothes. He was wearing a black tee and grays sweatpants and he still looked liked something off the pages of a catalogue. He walked into the room barefoot, taking a seat beside his daughter, grabbing his Sour Patch kids and getting comfortable.

"They're trying to decide what genre we're watching tonight. I narrowed it down to three: action, comedy or thriller. Malia wants action while Isaac wants comedy. How about you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, munching on some candy he bought."Personally I don't really care because I can watch something from each genre, so you're the deciding vote. So what's it going to be?"

"After all that's happened tonight, I think we need some laughter to bring up our mood darling, so I pick comedy. Sorry Malia but you understand right," Peter smiled, mischief present in his bright blue eyes, the only response a low snarl from said person. Heading to comedy, Stiles settled on The Interview starring Seth Rogen & James Franco. Pressing play, the four of them got comfortable in each other, happily laughing and munching away at their snacks, the feeling of melancholy and overwhelming grief gone for the brief moment. When the movie finished almost 2 hours later, Stiles looked at the weres who began to mean the world to him, a thought occurring to him.

"I got a question," he began, getting noncommittal grunts in return, as they were still eating, Isaac now with the remote, scrolling through movies, "Why did you guys leave?" It was as though time froze, as the three of them looked at Stiles, his head down as three pairs of eyes watched him. He could feel their eyes but didn't want them to see his insecurity.

"You know why sweetheart," Peter told him, his hand grabbing the younger man, feeling the anxiety radiating off of him. 

"But why? I mean why would you give that up for me. Isaac, Derek is your Alpha. You're one of the first to be turned by him plus Erica & Boyd, aren't you going to regret leaving them and Peter, he's your nephew. He's your family at the end of the day, don't you want stability and such for Malia. I know she hasn't been here long but she's never been in a pack, so she needs to learn more and be in that environment. I just don't why you guys would do that for me. I'm nobody. I'm just a human so I can't offer you guys things and I don’t know why you would pick me-" his rambling cutting off as he couldn't breathe, self-inducing himself into a panic attack. Black spots edging into his vision as his breathing escalated.

"Darling breathe," Peter told him, as he came in front of the panicked boy, mad at those buffoons who made the young boy upset. When he got his hands on them, especially his nephew and that failure, they were going to wish that he had never been resurrected. "Calm down Stiles. Copy me. Inhale and exhale. Slowly now. Inhale and exhale," watching him copy his actions. This went on for a few minutes until he managed to calm him down. Isaac and Malia on either side, gently rubbing down his arms, not crowding him, but showing him that they were there for him. 

"Stiles are you okay?" Peter asked softly, careful not to startle the boy. He got a nod in turn, making the others let out small sighs, relieved that they managed to calm him. "Do you want to know why we were so ready to leave them behind? Why there was no hesitation? It's because as both Isaac and Malia have mentioned, you are our pack. Out of everyone there, you're the only one who has been smart enough in our endeavors. Always planning ahead, making sure everyone stays safe, you always feed us, taking control of heavy situations when everyone else is trying not to have a meltdown. You're more were than human to us. I say this because our weres can feel you and you feel like pack. I mean you're more of a leader than my idiotic nephew is," receiving nods from both Isaac and Malia at his words. A smile, albeit small, curling Stiles' lips as he listened. "You make us feel noticed Stiles. Nobody in that ill-conceived pack gave me a chance to properly redeem myself and yet you gave me that chance. The chance to show glimpses of my former self. You've given Isaac the chance to grow, helping boost his confidence and shed the immature asshole mask he wore, showing him it was okay to be vulnerable after all he's been through, and that he can still be tough. You've given Malia an anchor, being there for her when she was still struggling to control her animal instincts. Helping her, guiding her, giving her the opportunity to let her guard down. Stiles how could we not follow you when you've given us so much without asking for anything in return. When you've done so much for us to be comfortable and happy. We're a tight knit group because you got us to sit down, come together and get to know one another as a group. As a pack. You're our Alpha, Stiles."

Stiles was dumbfounded as he saw unabashed honesty above all else on Peter's face. He could see in those blue eyes that every word spoken was true, no blips or errors. Looking at the other two beside him, their hands in his providing comfort, he saw in their faces as well, that they 100% agreed with the older man. Feeling tears filling his eyes, he closed them soaking in the words, letting them sink in and wrap around him. "Are you sure? Like really sure that this is what you want." He got three nods in response, the seriousness of the situation truly hitting him. He gave each of them personally a hug, before all four of them were in a group hug, Peter kneeling up to be apart of it. He let out a gasp, they all did in actuality, as they felt bonds within themself tightening and forming with each other. 

"Was that-?" Malia asked, word escaping her in the moment, her eyes lit up with wonder.

"I don't know. I mean can my magic as a spark just form bonds like that Peter?" but he didn't get a response, said person in shock. "Peter?" "Dad?" 

"Sorry. I-" taking a deep breathe, he continued, "It's been so long since I've felt bonds like that."

"Bonds like what?" Isaac asked, tilting his head like an adorable puppy.

"Familial bonds.. pack bonds," he breathes out, trepidation in his voice. "I haven't felt bonds like that since.. well since before the fire. Even now, it's barely tangible with Derek and his pack of miscreants." "Well what does it mean?" "To be honest Stiles. I don't know. I.. I'm at a loss right now, but it just proves how true my words were, are. We're pack, we're family and family sticks together. Okay?" Peter asked us, getting a nod from each of us. Out of nowhere, he begins to laugh. It starts as a trickle ending as a flood. His laughter fills the room, his eyes brighter than they've ever seen. The man in front of them looks so happy and due to his happiness, it makes them happy as they laugh too. Enjoying this moment.

After a while, they’re all on the couch, snuggled up with one another, Peter beside Malia once more, when a thought comes into Stiles' mind. He opens his mouth, wanting to speak, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he presses his lips shut. He does this a few times, unknowingly doing it. "Stiles, you look like a fish," Malia laughed, copying him, opening and closing her mouth, the other two weres laughing along. "Ha ha. Laugh it up. I was going to say something but I forgot is all." "Mhm, suree." "Oh hush up puppy." "Stiles-" Isaac whines, nuzzling the laughing teen, the father-daughter duo watching them with matching grins.

They stay up all night, laughing, teasing, talking, their bonds pulsing with joy. This was needed for all of them, this moment of togetherness. It was rare and beautiful, lasting until the early morning, Stiles the last one up. Their bodies woven together on the couch, like they were an extension of one another. Looking at the sleeping weres, he gives a big smile, watching as Isaac snuggles closer, as Malia sighs in her sleep, as Peter lets loose small snores, knowing that they would be okay. They would be alright because they were a family. Smiling at the thought, Stiles relaxes for the first time since the discussion, his eyes drooping as he lets go, falling asleep.


	2. Chapter 1: Leaving the Past Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of all the lies, Stiles and his dad get into it, ending with harsh words, Stiles makes the decision to leave Beacon Hills behind; his pack coming along. Their story begins here..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't until after I read what I wrote that I realized how much it hurt to write it. Like my baby is so strong for what he's been through, whether it's what I wrote or how the show wrote it. I can't wait for their journey to begin and prosper.

The smell of bacon sizzling and the sound of music drifting in the air aren't what woke up Stiles; no, instead it was the body that decided to pounce on the couch as well, without giving him ample time to react.

"Oof," he yelled, sitting up and pushing the body off of him, the sound of laughter spilling out. "That hurt you asshole," rubbing his eyes of sleep, looking down at who had the nerve to wake him from his eventful dreams. It was going so well too. His eyes finally cleared up, Stiles sees laughing on the floor, that it was Malia who had pounced on him like prey. Looking up he sees Isaac stifling his laughter as he records on his phone. Glaring at the two of them, he stretches his body, all signs of sleep gone due to the two troublemakers.

"Seriously. Why’d you do that shit Malia?" he asked in a deadpan tone, quirking an eyebrow for added effect. "I'd apologize but I’m not sorry," she tells him with a shit-eating grin, looking hella predatory, Isaac laughing in the background. Rolling his eyes, he sees he has a blanket pooled around his waist, probably from Peter, and looks behind the couch into the kitchen, where said person is cooking breakfast? lunch? brunch? and dancing to the music. Finding the sight hilarious, he startles the man when he speaks. "Nice moves Peter, but i couldn't say the same for the bacon you're cooking over there." Laughing when Peter's eyes widen at the slight burning smell rising from the meat.

"Damn it Stiles," ignoring the laughing teenagers, Peter manages to salvage the food, still dancing along. Shaking his head, Stiles unfolds his body off of the couch, pulling Malia up in the process. With an arm around her shoulder, they grab Isaac, making him join their 'line', before heading to the kitchen. Peter's serving eggs, bacon, waffles and orange juice when the trio sit down at the dining table, mouths practically salivating at the aroma permeating the air. "This looks so good," Stiles moans, dropping down into a chair, making Peter smirk. "Of course it does. I have many _talents_ , Stiles, as you know, and cooking just so happens to be one of them," he purrs, making both Isaac and Malia look at him with signs of disgust and amusement at the double entendre. They don't speak as they eat, a comfortable air around them that silence isn't necessary to break, soft music in the room. Enjoying each other's presence, sharing little smiles and laughing at winks, giving the semblance of normalcy, even if for a little while.

* * *

After breakfast, they are lounging at the table, Stiles deciding to be a gracious guest, washed the dishes with Isaac as his helper. Malia lazily told them with the curl of her lips, 'No,' and they merely laughed at her, as she ate plenty and was now patting her stomach happily. Peter just watched the three teens, all in their own world but said worlds colliding and mingling together beautifully, drinking his juice he sighs at the family he has gotten for himself; the family they've risen to become.

"Iz, what are your plans for today?" Stiles asks his little helper, as they finish up with the kitchenware. Seeing a shrug out of the corner of his eye, he turns to face him as he gives him the last plate. "Really? Not even a run or work?" "I don't really have anything set up but I was thinking about grabbing some things from Derek's, you know? Clothes, books and other stuff," Issac tells him with a slight wince that he smooths away as he gently brings a hand to the curly-headed boy's face. "Do you need any help?" a tight tone in his voice, ready to provide backup if necessary against his now ex. "I think I'll be okay but I'm bringing Malia with me just in case and Peter can we borrow your car as well?" A barely heard grunt is all they get from the older wolf, who's too busy scrolling through his phone, probably checking his email.

Speaking of phones, Stiles remembers that he didn't head straight home but instead spent the night at a different location. Groaning at the thought of what awaited him, he pulled his phone out of his jeans' pocket, wincing at the 5 missed calls from his dad and the 2 text messages from him as well. He notices that he has 2 missed calls from Scott and 1 text from Derek, but ignores those in favor of checking what his dad texted him.

 _ **Sheriff:**_ _'Hey kiddo, I'm on my way home. Decided to leave work early so maybe we can eat dinner together.' sent 8:08pm_

 _ **Sheriff:**_ _'Where are you? I've been calling and I didn't see you in your room this morning. Come home NOW.' sent 9:35am_

The weres could smell the acrid scent of anxiety and worry in the air coming from their pack member, all heads turned to Stiles as he was preoccupied with whatever was on his phone. Looking up at the eyes on him, he waved his phone and told them, "The parent's texted and I'm not home." Everyone knew what he meant in that one sentence. The sheriff who they've kept in the dark for quite a while was getting suspicious. He knew there was something his son was keeping from him and Stiles was aware he knew but as his only living relative, Stiles wanted to make sure he was safe, even if it put a strain on their relationship.

"Damn. What are you going to tell him?" Peter asked, his phone down, giving Stiles his full attention. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I mean I'll just make up story that I was with Mal & Iz and we stayed up doing homework or something." Mal scoffed because the thought of her staying up doing homework was amusing and from the smirks on Isaac and Peter's faces, they knew that too. Plus the excuse was laughable as they were in their summer break, but Stiles wasn't really known for his lies anyway.

"Are you heading out now?" Isaac asked him, leaning against the sink. "Yeah Iz. Plus I gotta brush my teeth and take a shower, but if you're coming back here then I'll definitely be swinging by later. If that's cool with you Peter?" "Of course sweetheart. Who would I be to be in the way of inquiring minds trying to 'learn,'" he drawled, drawing a snort from his daughter and snickers from the young males. "Okay, well I guess it's time for me to get a move on then." Pocketing his phone, Stiles washed his hands, Isaac passing him a paper towel and gave the teen an affectionate hug, before doing the same with Peter and Malia, Malia the only one to get a kiss on the cheek as well; a small snarl from her had them laughing. 

Making sure he had his car keys on his body, Stiles put on his shoes at the apartment door, blowing exaggerated kisses to the weres in the room, before leaving, the sound of laughter following him out. As he waited for the elevator to go down, he felt the curls of joy and warmth in chest from the pack bonds they founded together. It still surprises Stiles that they were able to form one with him seeing as how he's human, but pack is pack and family can be found with just the right people. Heading down, Stiles walked out the elevator and towards the lobby, nodding at the security guard behind the front desk. Exiting the complex, he takes a deep breath, relishing the cool air filling his lungs before walking towards the parking lot. His mind was chaotic, running wild with mindless thoughts filling his mind; yet two things stood above the clutter. The pack kicking him out while in the process, he formed a new pack with bonds and his magic trying to make itself known. He was trying his best not to let his mind remember what was still a fresh painful memory but he was going to have to figure something out eventually. In regards to his magic, it was a strange phenomena. Stiles knows bits about his magic, his Spark, from the cryptic words of Deaton, his stubborn ass; fortunately under the tutelage of Peter, Stiles was able to learn a few things from books given to him from the Hale vault, a luxury he didn't take for granted. It fascinated not only him but Peter as well unsurprisingly, as he made great strides to give Stiles help the best he could. He knew his Spark was an energy all in it's own and that magic came from belief but they were still getting the hang of it, learning something new each day.

Reaching his car, he unlocked the door to his trusty jeep, sliding in the driver's seat, he put the keys in the ignition. Closing the door behind him, he buckled up and shifting into second gear, he reversed and drove out the parking lot. He contemplated playing the radio but he preferred the silence, which was allowing the ability to quietly think. He drove home, the drive not taking up much longer than about 12 minutes. Pulling onto his street, he sees his dad's cruiser in front of the house. 

Feeling a sense of foreboding, he swallowed, mentally trying to shake off his nerves, he pulled up behind his dad's car, parking neatly. Shutting off the engine, he sat in the car for a few seconds, noticing for the first time Scott's motorcycle in front of his house, but no sign of Melissa's car, meaning Mama McCall was still working. Taking his keys out the ignition, he opens his door, stepping out carefully, trying not to draw attention to himself. His neighbors were nosy as hell and he knew if he wasn't careful he would be the talk of the next book club meeting his neighbor, Ms. Lincoln, resident gossip, led. Mindful of fluttering curtains, he closed his jeep door, locking the door behind him; as he walked around to the walkway leading to his house porch, he felt eyes on him. It made shivers run down his spine and he wasn't sure if the eyes raking his form were malevolent or not. He did a quick sweep with his eyes, pretending he was checking his jeep was locked properly. Nothing seemed out of place but that didn't settle his racing pulse, for he knew there was something, it just wasn't readily visible to him at the moment. Letting it go for now, Stiles walked up the mini case of stairs leading to his porch before climbing the two steps there. Unlocking the front door, he yelled out, "Hey daddio, I'm home!" 

Trying to act normal, he began closing the door, eyes momentarily sweeping the street, taking notice of the curtains from Scott's bedroom fluttering, like someone was watching him. Ignoring it, he fully closed the door before heading to the kitchen. "Dad?" he asked, confused at the lack of response. He walked down the hallway leading from the entrance to the kitchen, passing the living room which was empty, he felt cold as he headed to the kitchen, a sinking feeling in his gut that was slowly becoming hard to ignore. Upon entering the kitchen, the first thing he noticed was a bag sitting on the kitchen table, wide open as though it's been rummaged through. Books, papers, bags of mountain ash and mistletoe, and more were strewn around the table. A bottle of Jack Daniels was open and halfway finished next to a slumped over sheriff. 

Rushing over, he shook his father, who wasn't unconscious or asleep but simply slouched over, waiting. "Dad? Why's my stuff down here? What's going on? What's wrong?" he asked, worried for his parent and at the lack or response.

"What's wrong? **_WHAT'S WRONG?!_** " the sheriff yelled, getting up from his seat, clothes askew and crumbled up, swaying a bit. "Stiles, what the hell do you mean what's wrong? What the hell is this?" gesturing to the items on the table. Picking up the bags of mountain ash Stiles used to practice, he asked his son, "Is this drugs? Are you on drugs?" 

Stiles scoffed at the idea. " _Drugs!?_ Does it look like I'm on drugs dad? Where did that come from?" He was heavily upset that his dad would ever imply he was under the influence and was doing substance abuse.

"I don't know anymore. I don't know _you_ anymore son. You've been acting sketchy for quite a while now, sneaking out at late hours, coming home at late hours, and you just expect me to not be suspicious. Stiles this is not who you are, at least the _Stiles I know_ wouldn't be doing these things. I mean what are these books? _The Origin of Magic? Mysterious Beginnings: Sparks?_ Just what the hell are you into? Is it a cult? A gang?" 

Stiles could only stare open-mouthed at his dad, shock filtering his system at the accusations being thrown at him. "No! I'm not in a _cult_ or a _gang._ I can't believe you'd say something like that; also I'm a teenager, sneaking out is kind of the program with us. And what do you mean the _Stiles you know_? It's still me dad. Aren't I allowed to grow up and find new interests without being interrogated?" 

The sheriff simply looked at his son, really looked at him before his face was overcome with weariness. He was just so tired, tired of the lies his son was orchestrating and tired of not knowing who he was anymore. "I just can't do it anymore." 

"Do what?"

"I can't keep acting like this is normal, like you're acting normal. You've been lying to me ever since your lacrosse game and what truly happened that night," unaware of the wince his son produced at that sentence; the scars, both physically and mentally still accosting him. "Hell, you've probably been keeping secrets and lying to me since before that and I simply can't do this anymore with you son. I don't have the energy to deal with you anymore."

"Dad--what are you trying to say?" Stiles asked, his voice coming out small and broken at his father's words, feeling a hole in his chest.

"It's what I said Stiles. I'm tired of the running around the subject and all the mishaps that seem to be happening that you don't try to clue me in. I'm just disappointed in you."

Stiles couldn't breathe. His father's words likes sharp claws that dug into his chest and tried to rip out his heart; it wasn't quick and easy though, no--it was painful and slow. If he didn't know any better he would think his heart was breaking. He tried to speak--he really did but words couldn't escape him. For the first time Stiles was silent and speechless. He watches as his father grabs the whiskey bottle before heading out the kitchen. 

He moved his mouth to say the words he wanted to say--he wanted to explain his dad that he was only trying to protect him from horrors he wasn't even aware of--yet all he managed was a mangled, "Dad.." 

The sheriff stopped for one minute second, just standing in the entrance of the kitchen, bottle swinging low in his hand.

"If you walk away--if you go now, I can’t promise you I’ll be here when you come back," Stiles managed to get out, watching him as he turned his head slightly to the side, trying to scare him. His dad didn't speak though, he merely looked away and kept on walking, leaving his son behind; his heart ripped out of chest. 

Stiles swallowed down a sob as he saw his dad, no--his father walk away from him; that answered it for him then and he knew things would never be the same. He fell into a chair, nearly hyperventilating, a sharp pain in his chest. There was a ringing in his ear and he wasn't sure if it was his imagination or his phone. He was just stuck. His father basically didn't care anymore and it just hurt so badly. 

Stiles felt _numb_.

He wasn't aware of how long he sat there but it was a while before he heard harsh knocking on the front door. He didn't hear his father open the door or even attempt, which meant he was in his room and didn't care or he had left while Stiles was in stasis. He got up slowly and trudged silently to the door; he didn't even take the time to look through the peephole, he just simply opened the door, surprised and unsurprisingly silent when it was Isaac, Malia and Peter on the opposite side of the door. He didn't speak but merely gestured them to come inside, unaware of the glances between them. Closing the door behind them, he followed them into the living room where they stood waiting for him. No one spoke for what seemed like forever but was in actuality a few seconds, until Isaac did.

"Stiles--Sti, are you okay?" the sweet puppy asked softly, the smell of sadness from his pack mate, making him let out a low whine. Isaac didn’t like seeing someone he considered to be family, to look so dejected.

"I--I.." Stiles began but the words failed him, his eyes blurring with unshed tears and luckily the three supernaturals knew that he couldn’t say what transpired yet and gathered him in a big huge; offering comfort to their shaking pack mate; their family member.

* * *

It took awhile before he calmed down and they gave him the time to get himself together. They had moved upstairs to his bedroom, Malia, Isaac and Stiles on his bed and Peter on his desk chair. He told them what happened from the mysterious eyes that were watching him, weirded out to his bag of supernatural items to accusations from his father because of white lies told to their conversation ending with the sheriff walking away from him. All throughout his story, Stiles just sat there unblinking, his hands tightly clasped together that he didn't realize it when Malia softly took his right hand, releasing it from his own hard grip and he allowed her to do it. They sat in silence, warring emotions affecting each of them internally and through the bond; luckily someone spoke up breaking the jarring silence.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" Peter asked, leaning forward to look into sad doe eyes that were duller than their usual brightness. "I--" Stiles started, swallowing a sob, shoving his emotions down, "I'm just so tired Peter. First I was kicked out of that good for nothing pack, who owe me their lives and more, my boyfriend--sorry my ex, was in on me being kicked out, and now I'm dealing with this shit with my dad. Everything I did, I did for him and here he is treating me like a pariah and for what? For helping people who didn't deserve it in the first place. Ever since that night in the woods when I was stupid enough to go find out and look for a dead body," softly soothing Peter who winced, at the reminder of the death of his niece not that long ago, "my life has been flipped upside down. I'm grateful because without that night I wouldn't have met you guys but I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I just ignored it and stayed home."

He nodded sympathetically. 

Peter understood what Stiles meant but the past was the past and nothing could be done to change it. "So what do you intend to do now sweetheart. Where does this leave us?" Stiles got up, unhinging himself from the clingy weres who were giving him comfort, all three of them watching as he went to his desk, pulling out the bottom drawer, he surprised them when they saw him remove a false bottom. Taking out some carefully placed papers and placing the false bottom back, he turned and handed them to Peter. 

"Is this?" Peter asked, reading over the given documents. "Yes," Stiles started, biting at his nails, "it's the papers to help me properly become emancipated."

Meeting the surprised eyes of Isaac and Malia as Peter was still scouring the papers Stiles gave him, he explained to them why he had it and how it all started after his mother's death. His father was rightly devastated but in his drunken sorrow, he forgot about his young son, who had to learn how to take care of himself; learning to cook, clean and wash up after himself.

"-It got so bad one night when I was around 15 about to be 16, not too long after that fateful night that started this mess, he had just come home and was a _huge_ mess. As soon as he arrived, his breath smelled of whiskey and he immediately turned to a whiskey bottle to drown himself in it. It got to the point where he was heavily drinking and yelling at me. He said, _'It's all your fault. You killed your mother and now she's gone but you're here. It should’ve been you.'_ He slurred in my face and when I tried to get the bottle from him, he threw it all the wall behind me, shards of glass nicking my back and feet. Barely paying attention to the pain, I ran as fast as I could to get away from him because surely that man right in front of me was not my dad. I ran upstairs to my room and locked the door behind me; I ignored him as he knocked on the door, pleading for me to open up, trying to apologize and got right on my computer and printed the proper legal documents. I've had those waiting patiently ever since but with all the supernatural bullshit and running around trying to play hero, I kinda forgot about them."

"Yet you've signed it?" Peter asked, receiving a nod in turn, "Do you want to file it then?" 

"Peter--I not only want to file but I want to leave this town behind," his molten eyes darkened, his words ringing with a promise. "I can not stay here anymore; none of us can. I don't want us to be slowly eaten alive here and rush in headfirst to go and fight the next big bad. I refuse to allow us to be dragged down in this Hellmouth (IYKYK :P)," he proclaimed.

They could all see in his eyes and in the words he spoke, the conviction he had. They could feel it in the bonds they shared, strumming strong and true.

"Are you sure Stiles? Are you aware of what this means? Not only for you but for us." 

"I know," he started off softly, his words spoken low but straightforward. "I'm almost eighteen Peter but even then my birthday is still a ways away and I don't want to risk it. I want to file and I want us to leave. We can go anywhere away from here. Isaac's already emancipated. You were pronounced 'missing' and never really reintroduced back into society, and as for Malia she was discovered 'missing,' basically dead, as well. I'm sorry if I'm coming off too strong and if I’m being selfish but I can no longer do this and I want the same for you all as well. This could be our fresh start; our journey."

They all looked at him in silence, contemplating Stiles' words; he may not have realized but it touched something in them, made them realize just how right he was and what they wanted for themselves in regards to life. Unsurprisingly Isaac and Malia agreed at the same time, glaring at each other when they spoke simultaneously. Stiles only laughed happy they agreed but there was still one person left who had yet to speak.

"Peter?" Stiles cautiously asked, afraid of what the older man's answer would be. "Are you in this? It's okay if you're not you know?" The other two teens nodding along; they would understand if he didn't want to leave his home behind.

"I've decided--I'm going," Peter blew out, the words coming out like a stream, all at once.

The silence in the room was monumental before the three teens let out a huge 'WHOOO!', happy he was coming along. While they would’ve understood if he politely turned them down but that wasn't the case. He was coming along and their family would stay complete. Stiles gave Peter a big hug, pulling him out of the seat (the papers were placed on the desk so they wouldn't be crumpled) shocking the older man before they were rushed at by Isaac and Malia. The four of them in one big hug; happiness flowing through their bonds, keeping their spirits alive. They stood there letting their infectious joy soak in before getting a move on because they had so much to do.

* * *

After their impromptu pack hug, everything afterwards was like a hurricane. They didn't hesitate to do what needed to be done. Peter took the teens to help Stiles file for emancipation as he was/is(?) a lawyer before the fire and although it's been years since he donned the persona of a lawyer, they were able to do what needed to be done. It didn't take as long as they assumed it would which Stiles was grateful for. They celebrated with a nice lunch at Stiles' newfound independence and Isaac jokingly led a toast to Peter's brilliant lawyer work, for a comatose man his silver tongue knew how to get whatever he wanted done. Malia was in the middle of telling them a story about her coyote days when Scott, Allison, Lydia, & Jackson walked in. The couples in for a double date; they were led to their tables and saw Stiles and the other three but by their seating position, it wasn't the same for them. Scott watched with a kicked puppy look on his face as his best friend (not really idiot) was laughing, smiling and getting closer with people who weren't him. Allison grabbed his hand in support, seeing the distraught look on her boyfriend's face. Lydia and Jackson tried to be aloof about seeing the quartet led by Stiles but on the inside they were a bit hurt and sadden at what transpired between them.

Peter was watching the teenagers fondly, rolling his eyes at their horrible jokes and ramblings, happy Stiles was being playful after the things he had gone through, when he caught the scent of morbid failure filling his sensitive nose. He scrunched up his nose at the offensive smell, stealthily turning his head to find the person who's BO was ruining his palate, before making eye contact with his failed science experiment. He growled under his breath, mindful to make sure Stiles was unaware of the reason why. He knew Isaac and Malia heard him and from the way his failure and the reptile stiffened, he knew they had heard him too. Smirking he zoned back into the conversation, looking at them when he didn't hear anyone speaking. Each teen with their own smirk.

"What?" he innocently asked, a devious smile on his lips.

"You're incorrigible," Stiles told him, picking at his food. Waving at their waiter for their check, he merely shrugged knowing it's true. "Someones's studying for their SATs with those words," he teased, loving when Stiles huffs, Isaac and Malia ribbing at him.

"Please," he rolls his eyes, "my vocabulary has been SAT ready for years, you deplorable, nonnegotiable, villainous, brusque douche," smiling proudly, giving an imaginary bow with the other two applauding him.

"Children," he muttered, "I'm surrounded by children." 

"And you love us." Malia told him, a familiar smirk on her lips. Huffing he got up, a smile playing at his lips at the sight of the smiles on the teens' faces, "Let's go you hooligans," laughing at their mock aghast faces. Peter paid and they were on their way out when Stiles caught sight of his ex-packmates. He knew Peter was being mischievous on purpose but didn't know to whom; as they were walking out the door, a voice called out.

"Stiles," Scott pathetically called out, getting up and standing behind them by a few feet, as though he had a reason to sound sad after what he did. Stiles didn't even tilt his head in acknowledgement; along with his family, they walked out the restaurant's doors with their heads held high. You always miss something when they're gone and Scott was going to learn that lesson today.

"Are you okay?" Isaac asks him, an arm around Stiles' shoulders. "I'm fine puppy. I knew it wasn't going to be easy for me but that doesn't mean I didn't know what to expect, what to do. It still hurts but I have you three so I'm okay," blinding the adorable wolf with a smile, who whined at the nickname.

"Good. If you went back that would be weak and you're not weak," Malia tells them, frowning at the thought of Stiles going back.

"Sure Mal," rolling his eyes affectionately, Stiles threw an arm around her shoulders, bringing the three teens closer.

"Okay, enough of that babble. We still have much to do." 

"Aye aye captain," Stiles shouts, Isaac and Malia rolling their eyes at the boy, Peter looking ready to throttle him. Sighing he gestures for them to follow and they go prepare what they need to to leave.

* * *

It was 7:40pm, when their plan was in fruition. Peter and Malia had helped Issac take all of his belongings from Derek's loft, leaving Stiles at Peter's so he wouldn't have to go through seeing his ex. Stiles, bored, was practicing his magic when they came back. Unbeknownst to him, they had arrived and they watched him for a few minutes as he was practicing with mountain ash and levitating a book (not simultaneously) that was on the coffee table. Placing the few bags they had brought, they watched the male in fascination.

"That looks fun," Peter told him, smirking when he lost his concentration and the book fell with a loud thud. Growling at the annoying older man, Stiles sneered before picking the book up. "Do you have everything you need Iz?"

"Mhm. I mean I didn't really have a lot of things there in the first place but I do have the money from my jobs and the life insurance from my _father_ ," he spits the word with malice, eyes darkening, "but whenever we go, I'll get things from there," leaning into the soothing embrace Stiles gave him, calming him down. "Okay, so you're done. Peter, how about you?"

"Please Stiles. It's like you've forgotten who you're talking to," he smirks, irritating the teen but he nodded. "Mal? Do we need to get you anything?"

"I haven't really been home ever since what happened all those years ago. I was 'human' then but a lot has changed so unless you count the things you guys have gotten me, I have no reason to go back to that house," referring to her foster home from long ago. When she was first brought back from her coyote form into her human skin, it was an adjustment for her and everyone included. It was hard for her to try and go back to a life she barely remembered and responded to so she left. She was staying with the pack and with Stiles and eventually that extended to staying with Peter, before moving in altogether. 

"Okay, so that just leaves me I guess," he sighed, dreading the prospect of running into his father but he had valuable items he needed to retrieve. 

* * *

Stiles looked around in his bedroom, looking at everything he would be leaving behind him. His band posters, his bookshelf filled with his favorites books, like the Harry Potter series and fictions based on the supernatural, his laptop and desk where he spent endless nights researching the newest big bad that crawled into town. Sighing he took a small seat onto his bed, his head in his hands. He thought of the memories he acquired in the room. The times he spent playing video games with Scott, days he spent going on and on about his crush on the red-haired goddess known as Lydia to the first night he realized what Scott had become on that fateful night. To the nights when Derek would come into his bedroom, coming in through his window with such grace and appeal. To the first time they shared a kiss after a particularly crazy fight with a witch.

There were so many resounding memories in this one room it was crazy. His mind flittered to nights long ago when his mom and father would read him bedtime stories, tuck him into bed and lay soft kisses on his forehead but he banished it just as soon as they came forth. The pain of remembering too hard as he looks around. He has his bags packed already and in spite of everything, he's not bringing as much as he thought he would need to. He's packed three bags, one for clothes, another for his books that Peter lent him and the last for his trusty baseball bat and his wolfsbane, mountain ash, etc.

Sighing he got up gingerly, carefully as though any rushed movements would start off catastrophic events. He leaned down to pick up his bags before remembering he had one last thing to do. Standing back up straight, he goes towards his laptop and opened it, starting the system, he logs in before erasing everything. He already put all the information of supernatural creatures and his personal bestiary, which greatly differed from the Argents, onto a USB drive; two, one in his things and another in the safekeeping of someone he trusted, Peter. When he was sure he scrubbed his laptop of all things supernatural, he logged out and shut it down. Closing it back up, he tapped it softly, remembering all the nights he was found leaning over the screen. It filled him with fondness and regret of how efficient he was in his research among other topics that his ADHD made him search up. Smiling a bittersweet smile, he stands up straight and heads back over to his bags, picking them up, he looks around the room once more, his heart doing somersaults at the life he was leaving behind; the past. Feeling tears start to fill his eyes, he drops his phone onto the bed along with his jeep keys.

If it weren't for the promise of Peter buying him a new phone, he would've vehemently denied Peter's request but he knows why he's asked that of not only Stiles but the other two as well. So that there would be no trail left behind for anyone to try and follow. As for his jeep, well they had a long argument about bringing along Roscoe but Peter worked hard to make him see reason. 

_Flashback:_

_"If we want to leave this dreaded town behind Stiles, the jeep has to stay here," Peter told him softly, his hand in his. Stiles tried to protest but placing a finger on the young man's lips, he continued talking, "I know sweetheart," his heart clenching at the tears in soft doe eyes, "I know what it's like to leave behind what means the world to us but we don't have a choice. I wish we could but in the long run sweetheart, you know it's only going to be so long until that charming little jeep's luck runs out." What hurts is that he did know, but how could he even attempt to leave the one lasting piece of his mother; the piece that made it feel like she was looking after him._

_He dropped in the older man's arms, grasping at his shoulders as he sobbed, shaken by losing something precious to him even if it wasn't lost. Peter's strong arms kept him from falling and provided the warmth he needed to left out all the negativity he was burying inside and it was much appreciated. He wanted to scream but didn't, instead crying letting all the horrible emotions out._

_"I'm sorry," he started after crying for a while in his arms._

_"Never apologize for being human sweetheart. You know there will never be judgement from me or those other two idiots," huffing when a smile was slowing replacing the anguish he felt from the teen. Hugging each other tightly, he took what was being given to him freely with nothing being demanded in return._

**_Understanding. Family. Love._ **

_Flashback Ends:_

Closing his eyes, he willed the tears to go away and upon opening them once more, he turned off the lights, closing the door softly behind him, closing that chapter in his life. He silently went down the stairs, careful as to not raise awareness to the other person whose habitat the Stilinski house was. He paused by the kitchen, noticing that one of his pack must have put everything that was out in the open on the kitchen table back in the bag and took it out to the car and for that he was grateful. Sighing he turned off the kitchen lights and headed towards the entrance, passing the living room where his father laid on his favorite sofa, passed out, his whiskey down to the last drop. He feels the tears stinging at his eyes once more but ignores them, blinking the sadness away, giving himself the courage to rise out of that well of grief. Straightening his shoulders, he looks around the foyer, eyes soaking in every detail as though it would be his last, and in retrospect maybe it was but he didn't think of it. He just want to take one last look of the past before heading towards his future. 

Opening the front door, with one last look behind him, he walks out, closing the door, ready to face a new way, a new journey, smiling at the three weres waiting for him in the car in front of his former house. He sees Scott watching him from his bedroom window as he walks off the porch, a dopey face with a crooked jaw boy staring at him with something akin to hurt and grief, and if he was a wolf he probably would've smelt it as well but he wasn't one and he was no longer under the pretenses of having to care. It hurt him, of course it did after slaving away helping the one person he thought would be in his life forever but he realizes that void inside that was made from the hurt, turned into something more when three weres took over and mended the space; giving him reprieve from horrible heartache. He was going to be happy and who better to share that happiness than with the ones who stuck by him. 

* * *

Peter was driving an SUV, one big enough to carry at the most 6-8 people and with all the extra space, their bags were in the trunk and extra seats, placed comfortably with no issues. Stiles sighed from the passenger's seat, looking out through the window chewing on some M&M's. He wanted to stop by an ATM machine to buy snack but Peter refused and just asked him what he wanted before buying them times four, which was good thinking as Malia and Isaac were going through them like a tornado, fast and hard (lol the innuendo). They were slowly driving, taking the time to watch the scenery, take in Beacon Hills. Peter already got everything he needed; he left his apartment as is and Stiles helped ward it up, using his magic for a pretty big spell for the first time. They had also made a pit stop at the Hale Vault, Peter deciding there were a few more valuable things in there to gift to Stiles as his Spark grows and he learns more magic, and since Derek has no clue as to where it's located like Peter does, it's protected by the magic surrounding it, only permitting Hales entrance and those who are permitted by Hales.

It wasn't long until they reached the sign. The sign that said **'Thank you for visiting Beacon Hills. Please come again'**

The air was filled with apprehensive joy as the four supernaturals drove out of the soul-sucking town, nervous and excited to see where their path would lead them and ready to face the destiny that awaited them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter lowkey hurt to write but it's called character development and my boy Stiles is gonna be okay.. I think?

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue. Tell me what you think of it so far.


End file.
